


Here for You

by marreena



Series: non omnis moriar [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post Trespasser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 16:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4841933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marreena/pseuds/marreena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am not a spy. I work for the Inquisition. I work for you,” he confirms and will confirm it as many times as she needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here for You

**Author's Note:**

> a bit of post trespasser angst because honestly my quiz got so fucked up from that dlc
> 
> also a bit not canon for my quiz since i thought about it more and it's more in character for her to disband the inquisition than to keep it together no matter how much she didn't want to

Bull knows there’s something wrong, there’s a lot of things wrong. From her hand, _fucking_ Solas, Tevinter, the invasion, Fereldan turning on the Inquisition, to Maker knows what is currently going through her head from all those jumps through the Eluvians. She’s thinking and hasn’t stopped since the moment she walked through the first mirror into that entire fucking mess.

It’s all a fucking mess, and she’s _leaving_. 

He figures this is sort of a karma type thing for when he left in those two years to take on odd jobs, but _Tevinter_  is somewhere that he can’t follow her too after the next job is done. A qunari seen in Tevinter would be seen as a hostile act on the Inquisition’s part, and he can’t risk the Inquisition when she’s done everything in her power to keep it from falling apart or getting destroyed by Fereldan. She doesn’t need Tevinter to be at her throat too. 

He wishes that she would leave the Inquisition behind—she’d have less of a target on her back if she did that. She doesn’t have the protection of her hand—she doesn’t even have the protection of the _Inquisition_ anymore. 

She’s so fucking vulnerable and he can’t do a damn thing about it. 

“Kadan, please come to bed,” he calls out from bed and sits up so he can see her better. Ariala is curled up at her desk studying Tevene and other Tevene customs. She has a personal invitation from the _Imperial Archon_ inviting her to his next gala; she needs to be up to date on Tevene customs or she might end up dying there.

She looks up after finishing what she was reading, her eyes are glazed over from reading too much too late. “One moment, Bull,” she hums. 

A breath in, a breath out, everything is steady and that calms him. It’s not too hard or fast, she’s calm and relaxed. He counts them and makes sure that’s she’s okay. That’s what he’s always done: make sure she’s okay and do everything to make it better, easier for her.

She gets up from her chair and stretches. Before she used to put her hands together and stretch them over her head before behind over to stretch her back, but now her one hand just curls into a fist before she lets her arms fall down. He watches her take off her clothes—thankfully, she doesn’t struggle anymore. He remembers the first couple times watching her struggle and get frustrated at how she couldn’t even take off her own jacket anymore. Only if when she was reduced to tears would he help her. She had to learn now, adjust to having only one hand to carry out her actions.

When she sits on the bed after finally stripping everything off, her eyes are far off and she holds out a single hand for him to take. Her breathing has increased, she won’t meet his eyes, something is wrong. Wrong in a different way from before, before she would confront things straight on and not falter on any question. 

The Inquisitor always kept her head up, treated everyone as an equal, never averted her gaze. 

She won’t even look at _him_. 

“Bull?” she calls out softly, rubbing her thumb against his knuckles 

“Yes, Kadan,” he doesn’t move his hand any and lets her do what she wants with. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

She’s completely still until he answers, “Anything.” He doesn’t bother answering with a lot of words, he knows that right now she needs straight answers. 

She holds onto his hand the entire time, but stops playing with it. “I need to know if you’re still loyal to the Qun."

The question rocks him. Maybe in a different situation he would laugh, probably joke even, but her eyes are sharp now, watching his every move. Never before has he actually felt intimidated by her—sure he’s seen this gaze and behavior directed at others, but _never_  at him.

She’s still kneeling in front of him, she’s completely barred herself for him right now and expects the same from him. He almost feels choked on his response—on her—but he answers, “Ariala."

Perhaps using her full name is the wrong move as she flinches and pulls her hand away. He goes to take it again but her body posture alone stops him from doing so. Her hand clinches on her lap and she looks straight at him with clenched teeth, “The Iron Bull, I just need to know the truth. If you are, I need to know. If you are, I will let you leave here."

The ice sets in every part of him as he looks at her, _his Kadan_ , and she looks back at him with distrust and anger. He knows she has every right to be after everything that has happened to her, but it still cuts him. He finally sits up and looks her straight in the eye, “I am with you, Kadan. I am with the Inquisition. If I were still with the Qun, I would have left when the Vidasala called out to me."

“No, you wouldn’t have,” she snaps at him. “She had just revealed all the other spies in the Inquisition, and now the Qunari have no inside sources. You’re not just a spy like them, Bull, you’re a Ben-Hassarath. You’re—you’re in the Inquisition, you’re close to _me_ , you’re a central part of it, Bull. I trust you. Cullen trusts you, we all do, and—“ 

She freezes when Iron Bull leans over, grabs her necklace from the dresser, and slips it over her head, “Kadan, I am here for _you_.” 

“ _Katoh_ ,” it’s so quick out of her mouth that he doesn’t understand it at first, but then she repeats it again and _again_  until it’s a chant. On almost instinct, he scoops her up and holds her against him. Her lips move against his neck as she whispers more and more things to him, but he never loses track of what she’s saying. He hears it all—all the whispers of confession that clash with how hard she’s breathing and how hard her heart jacks in her chest.

She’s not just afraid, she’s _terrified_. She’s betrayed. She’s heartbroken. She’s suffering.

Her words trail from the elves in the Inquisition that betrayed her—the soldiers that she got to know better because of _his_ encouragement—to getting involved in another war, to how everyone’s gone, again.

She’s _lonely_.

He lets her cry and lets her tell him everything she’s been keeping to herself. He lets her work through the panic that she’s put herself into and just holds her until she’s not hiccuping anymore. Besides her arms that are still clutching to him, her body goes slack in his hold. 

She pulls back and presses her forehead to his, “Bull,” she murmurs. The choking sobs have stopped but the tears still freely flow. He waits, though, he waits for her to confront him and tell him what she needs to when she feels good enough to do so. “You’re not…a spy.” 

She shakes a little in his hold and he rubs small circles into her back and hip to try and calm her and ground her. “I am not a spy. I work for the Inquisition. I work for you,” he confirms and will confirm it as many times as she needs. 

“I am here for you."

 

 


End file.
